Paradox
by ReddLime
Summary: Do opposites always attract? Fifty alternate-universe RoyArcher themes.
1. If This is Wrong

For Always and Forever

**Paradox**

Written for a contest between me, Redd, and Limey. That's why it's on this account, obviously. Anyway, I adore these challenges, and find them easier to write to than actually writing out a long fanfic. I don't have enough time for that right now, unfortunately. Anyway, fifty alternate-universe RoyArch prompts.

You'll notice that each one is listed with the prompt in bold, then the title of the drabble in italics. The title of the drabble is going to be listed as the chapter name, just so you know.

_Rated for language, themes, and whatever else may pop up._

**01. Arabia**

_If This is Wrong…_

The open windows were shaded with curtains in a variety of colors, mostly pinks and purples, being some of the more valuable ones. The room's inhabitant certainly wasn't interested in the colors themselves, but rather what they stood for—wealth. After all, he was incredibly rich, and needed to show that off in every way he could. What good was being wealthy if no one knew it?

Ah, but wealth could only get him so far. Most of it had been acquired by his ancestors' travels around the world. But he was no traveler, instead he was the advisor to the Sultan, a kind-hearted man, but certainly not the best ruler. He would have made a better ruler—but of course that was impossible. He wasn't native to this land. No, Frank Archer was eastern European by heritage, but had never actually been there, at least, not that he could remember. Despite living out in the sun for year after year, Archer retained the pale complex that had him nicknamed 'ghost' among the commoners. Not like it mattered what they thought anyway.

"This isn't the life I want," He mused to himself and the few servants scattered near the door. Trying to escape again, he gathered. "Shame I'm not 'natural'. Otherwise I'd take the throne myself."

But he couldn't do that, he knew that. No one else did, of course. But that was because they knew nothing about Sultan Roy. Nothing other than what was supposed to be known, at least. They didn't know about their… well, relationship. Archer winced, it wasn't a relationship, not at all. They were… friends. Using the term in the lightest way possible. There wasn't another way to properly describe it, in Archer's opinion. But friendship only went so far to describe what they were to one another. After all, how many 'friends' got together and sinned, in the presence of their god, none the less?

Indeed, Archer and Roy had not only committed sodomy willingly, but within Sultan Roy's royal chambers. Archer was known to be ruthless in his pursuit of conquering surrounding lands (through Roy's commands, of course), but ruthlessness only went so far. He certainly wasn't the one who had started all this.

"_Won't you join me, advisor?"_ Roy had asked. Archer had of course obeyed his superior's commands and joined him in the room, surprised to find the doors shut behind the servants, the two left alone. That, of course, had never happened. No one trusted Archer. He was a foreigner by blood, after all. _"I want to show you something."_

Perhaps he was too trusting. Archer had willingly gone into this at first to get something out of it. Now, he was afraid he was in too deep to get himself out of his own will, even leaving with nothing. Because as much as he hated to admit it, he had a soft spot for his Sultan. It was a shame he wouldn't be spared when judged by God. "My lord, we need to talk." Archer bowed as he entered the royal chambers, not at all surprised when the servants vacated the room and shut the doors. They probably knew what went on between the Sultan and his advisor. They weren't as stupid as Archer wished they were.

"Archer," Sultan Roy greeted, rising from the cushions that made up his royal 'throne,' for lack of a better word. "I was waiting for you. Where have you been?"

"Thinking." It was a perfectly acceptable act for the advisor to the Sultan, after all. "What we have done… we cannot continue it, my lord. We have sinned, and we cannot go back for it."

Roy moved forward, and against Archer's will pulled him into a soft embrace. "If this is wrong, I don't want to be right."

"My liege…" Archer protested, but made no other move to escape from Roy's loose grasp. "We can't… If someone finds out…"

"No one will." Roy mused quietly, removing a slender jewel-encrusted knife from his loose sleeves. "No one will, if you don't talk."

Archer realized too late.


	2. Man Vs Woman

02

**02. Greece**

_Man Vs. Woman_

Mount Olympus, the home of the gods. Each and every story the Greeks told revolved around these mighty beings, but unfortunately it was mostly gossip. A lot of fake gossip, at that. Especially because they liked to pretend that anything they thought wrong _couldn't_ happen to the gods.

Such as, say, sodomy.

That, unfortunately for the Greeks, was a rather common thing. Hermes and Hades? Zeus and every single male on the mountain? So in an attempt to keep from scarring themselves for life, the Greeks changed a few things around. Such as the gender of the 'Goddess of wisdom', Athena.

Athena wasn't even his name. It was _Archer_, which should have been Artemis' name, technically. That went ignored by the gods though. Zeus made several mistakes in naming his children, after all.

Anyway, Archer was eventually forced to follow the puny humans' ideals, and was forced into wearing women's clothes as well as those ridiculously difficult sandals that were so popular now. "Father, this is ridiculous. I feel like… like Hestia!" He complained, pointing in the direction of the goddess of the hearth. "I'm no one's slave! And I'm not a woman either!"

Hestia 'hmmph'ed and returned to tending to the fireplace, while Zeus clapped a large hand to his son's shoulder comfortingly. "Nonsense, Athena—"

"Archer."

"—You're absolutely radiant! Like my other children!" With another laugh, Zeus clapped Archer on the shoulder again, nearly knocking him over and then storming out, pardon the pun.

"Ugh…" Archer grumbled, rubbing a bruised—and rapidly healing—shoulder. His father didn't know his own strength. Or Archer's lack of strength, whatever the case may be. With that, he returned to the little cottage outside of the main temple of the gods on Olympus, settling down to watch Helios pull the sun chariot across the sky. Helios, after all, was the most gorgeous god, despite what anyone would say. And no, Apollo wasn't the one who pulled the chariot, he was a liar and a thief. Helios' job was to pull the chariot.

Oh, but his name wasn't really Helios. Archer always managed to forget that. It was really _Roy_, which meant King, oddly enough. Maybe he'd plan a massive takeover of Olympus and appoint Archer as his queen! Wait. Archer wasn't a woman. Ugh. The goddess of wisdom sighed and adjusted the frock irritably, cooing softly for one of his many owls to come perch on his bruised shoulder. "Ow, ow, Thoth, the other shoulder!" The large owl hooted and switched shoulders politely.

The sun went down several hours later, and Roy hopped off the chariot, petting his gorgeous, flame-mane horses. "I'll be back soon, my pretties." They neighed and he retreated into the main hall, not at all surprised to be pestered by Cupid, then pulled into a voluptuous hug by Aphrodite, and then ridiculed by Apollo. All in a day's work. But wait, where was that gorgeous goddess? Roy knew Athena wasn't a goddess, he was a man after all, but still, human terms had rubbed off on him. "Where's Archer?"

"Outside in that little hut tending to his owls." Zeus waved a hand in dismissal and Roy quickly left, eager to go see the other man.

"Archer?" He asked as he knocked on the door. A loud hoot alerted him to the presence of one of the owls and he was promptly attacked by the sharp claws of another, new owl.

"Seth, stop that!" Archer appeared at the window then, calling the little black owl back with a sigh. "Hello, Roy. How was your trip today?" The two were usually on decent terms, but no one could ever know of Archer's secret attraction to Roy.

Roy sighed, relieved that the owl had been called off. Once upon a time Archer would have sent more owls to attack him. At least he'd lightened up. "It was alright. Boring, you know. Can I come in?"

"If you'd like to be attacked again." Archer stated dryly, and leaned on the windowsill, motioning for Roy to come over. "No news from earth?"

"Nothing new." Roy affirmed, leaning on the other side of the windowsill as well, and the two drifted into an awkward silence. "Archer…?"

"Yes?" He was a bit too eager to answer.

"You know, you look really good in that frock…"

The next morning, Roy was still recovering from a hard slap to the cheek, and several thousand owl-claw scratches. But that didn't stop him from doing his job. He'd win Archer's heart one way or another.


	3. I Love You, But

03

**03. Japan**

_I Love You, But…_

"_Bakayaro!_" Roy hissed, flipping off another driver as he was cut off, again. Maybe he wasn't aggressive enough. Then again, driving in Japan was a very difficult task. Not to mention all the lines were on the wrong side of the road. He got confused, especially when trying to turn right. It should be easier than it was! It was so frustrating.

"Roy," Archer whined from the passenger's seat, clinging to the dashboard for dear life, "can you _please_ slow down?" He wouldn't ask the other what that word meant, for he had a feeling he didn't want to know.

The two were in Japan on a quest, a very odd one at that. Roy's ancestors were Japanese and he wanted to learn more about his culture. Archer didn't have any choice in the matter and was dragged along regardless of his distaste for different cultures. He did like seafood though, so that had shut him up for long enough for Roy to pack his bags. Indeed, this had been a very last minute trip. Roy didn't mind though, that was the way he loved doing things. And Archer certainly couldn't complain, he said he loved Roy for who he was—and this was who he was! He was Japanese! And proud of it!

"Red light! Slow down, dammit!" Archer was definitely not the best person to drive with though.

"I am slowing down! Calm down! You'll have a heart attack or something," Roy muttered, skidding a few extra feet out into the middle of the road, then backing up. Japan's roads were so small too! How did anyone get around here?

Archer looked paler than normal, and his nails were so firmly entrenched into the dashboard that Roy would probably have to pry him out. "We're going to die, we're going to die, we're going to die," He kept repeating in an undertone to himself.

"Repent for your sins." Roy snorted. Really, Archer needed to have more trust in him. They finally made their way to the city of Hiroshima, and more particularly, to the museum all about the bombings. Roy and Archer both loved history, so of course they had to visit here. Roy was lucky enough to blend in pretty well, but Archer stuck out very obviously. And was stared at, despite the fact that this was a tourist attraction, for lack of a better word.

"This is so weird," Archer muttered. He wasn't used to being stared at so obviously. It was like they'd never seen a white person before! "Can we go home?"

"The hotel won't be ready for another hour—"

"No, home." Archer cut him off. "I want to go back, Roy. I love you, I care about your family's history, but I hate it here."

Roy sighed and took Archer's hand, oblivious to the stares it attracted. "Calm down, Frank. I love you too, but you're worrying too much. I promise you'll be okay. And besides, we've only been here a few hours."

"Five, thirty-six minutes, and," Archer paused to check his watch. "Thirty-seven minutes, actually. And three seconds."

"Frank," Roy warned. This was the sort of thing he had been worried about. But he couldn't bear the thought of leaving his lover alone for two weeks, at least. He wasn't sure how long he was going to stay here. "I promise we'll go out to a nice restaurant tonight, alright? Anything else you want?"

Archer was silent for a moment before suddenly a light smirk slipped across his features. "Well…"

Roy merely groaned. He loved Archer, but there were times he'd rather _not_ think about sex.


	4. When in Rome

04

**04. Rome**

_When in Rome…_

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't play dumb with me! You know what!"

Silence followed the rather harsh exchange of words, leaving two men standing at the balcony of their Puerto Rican hotel. The sun was setting and illuminating the waves beautifully, and it would have been a lovely scene if it weren't for the fact that one man was obviously furious with the other.

"Frank," The second man pleaded, placing a hand on the first's shoulder.

"Don't even _touch_ me!" Frank Archer snapped, shaking Roy's hand off and limping back into the hotel room. His ankle had been sprained earlier in the vacation, and now was set in an adjustable brace, which was possibly the cause of his anger toward Roy.

Sighing, Roy returned inside, shutting the double doors that led out to the deck. "There's really no need to get so upset…"

"He was _hitting_ _on_ you. And you weren't discouraging him!" Archer snapped, slipping a pillow under his leg to elevate it as told.

Another, more exasperated sigh, and Roy sat down on the edge of the bed with Archer. "Frank, you know I don't like anyone other than you."

"And your wife."

Roy winced at the harsh reminder. "You know just as well as I do that Riza isn't the one I love."

"Divorce," Archer suggested. "You don't see me still tied down."

"Frank, you divorced Sheska far too quickly." They had been in Puerto Rico a year ago, when this had really begun. A year ago, and things were repeating themselves. Frank had twisted his ankle the first day in Puerto Rico the first time too. And they'd fallen in love, and they'd ended up at a gay festival, and some man had hit on Roy…

"I don't care." Archer retorted and shifted so that he was facing away from Roy. It was fairly obvious what this was about, to both of them. After they'd returned from Puerto Rico the first time, Archer had divorced Sheska, certain that Roy would do the same to free himself from that dynamatrix Riza. But no, Roy remained married to the woman. It wasn't as if they were in some past time when they couldn't be together. They could, Roy was just taking his damn time with it.

Roy was getting tired of sighing. He finally walked over to the minibar and pulled out a bottle of beer, with a label in Spanish he couldn't read nor understand. "Remind you of anything?"

"Yeah, when you got me drunk." Archer snorted, glancing over. That was how all this had started. He'd gotten drunk and come onto Roy, but no one needed to know that. "Are you planning to do it again, to shut me up?"

"Depends." Roy stated, sitting back down beside Archer and offering him the bottle. "Will it work?"

Archer was silent, then finally popped the cap off and took a swig. "When in Rome," He prompted Roy.

"Do as the Romans do." Roy returned with a small smile, stealing the bottle from Archer.


End file.
